The Wig, the Bitch & the Meltdown by Jay Manuel

Author:Jay Manuel [Manuel, Jay]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, General
ISBN: 9781946274434
Google: O7xizQEACAAJ
Amazon: 1946274437
Publisher: Wordeee
Published: 2020-08-02T23:00:00+00:00

15

MELTDOWN

IT HAD BEEN a long day and it was about to get even longer. Officially in overtime, Joe Vong paced the back of the studio like a caged panther. At least there were five judges, including Pablo’s surprise guest, Coco Rocha, seated in their assigned spots. Sasha was still passed out, face down. But she was there.

Bill yelled over at Joe. “Are we gonna shoot her like that?”

“Just fucking roll on a four shot. When she wakes up, we can get the full wide shot and hopefully some usable close-ups of what’s left of her face.”

“I got a few reaction shots of her, earlier,” Harper chirped.

Joe grabbed a handful of Twizzlers from a nearby jar and began tearing them apart ferociously.

“It’s hotter than hell in here today, and I love it!” De La Renta whispered to Pablo.

“Mother’s pissed,” Pablo whispered back. “She told Rachel to get the A/C fixed ASAP or there’ll be no judging next episode.”

“Oooooo. Rachel must be poppin’ major Xanax upstairs in the control room,” he giggled. “As long as Mother’s makeup don’t melt, I could give two shits. I’m so sick and tired of freezing in here.”

“I just need this judging over with before Keisha has a meltdown and I’m forced to fix the A/C myself.”

“Settle,” Bill yelled across the studio floor. “Quiet on set.”

“Quiet on set,” the 2nd AD echoed.

“Rolling.”

The lights rose, changing the doldrums of the cardboard looking set into a fantasyland of glitz and glamor. Under the full intensity of the camera lights, the on-camera talent became doll-like versions of themselves. Safely tucked away in his usual spot next to De La Renta, Joe and a few producers in video village along the “fourth wall” of the judging set, Pablo sighed with relief as Bill began his countdown. “Models walking in on three, two, one.”

The four remaining contestants strutted out trying to look saucy and brave. If the delay had worn on anyone it was them. No one had told them what was going on, and, unlike the judges, they didn’t have a private trailer to escape to. Lining up in two rows on the multi-level platform across the runway, they looked to Keisha, standing solo center in front of the judging table flanked by the other judges—two on each side.

“Welcome ladies,” Keisha began her usual introduction with all the charm and charisma of a Stepford Wife. “This week we’re joined by the ‘Queen of Pose’ and the founder of her own Model Camp, Miss Coco Rocha.”

Coco’s beautiful heart shaped smile spread across her face as she waved encouragingly to the girls. They fawned appropriately and waved back excitedly. Even Pablo had to smile—Coco was one of the sweetest women he’d ever met. In or out of the fashion industry.

Keisha squinted her eyes at the “model media darling’s” enthusiastic reception. She had that fake tight smile pasted on her face. Trouble was afoot. What now? Pablo fretted.

“This week, you all had surprise branding makeovers and your photoshoot was all about adopting your new Kash-branded look.

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